Fallen Hearts of Ice
by rainforestblue
Summary: Another adventure which Sam and Mogget take on in search for his sister Ellimere. Lirael is presumed dead after an incident with a Necromancer and Sabriel is missing. The unbound form of Mogget and the Wallmaker are the only ones left.
1. Lirael's Fate

Hey, my first Fanfic of Garth Nix, so be as harsh on me as you want! I'm also looking for a beta reader; if anyone is available…I would really appreciate that. Please leave me a review with any comments or constructive criticism. Please? We all love reviews…

Disclaimer: I am not Garth Nix. Go figure.

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The dead were marching closer from the north. Shudders of protest from the forest floor echoed. Trees that stood tall and proud were drooping with leaves falling as if the years were flying by in seconds. Lirael closed her eyes, concentrating on the final mark to complete the diamond of protection. She gasped, struggling to reach the master marks leaving desperation to pull it together. As the diamond finally came to place, weakly burning, her head began to spin. She hadn't felt this sick in years. 

"I wish dog was here..." she spoke to herself, watching the sudden onslaught of dead creatures marching closer. Her limbs ached for her to lie down to rest and sleep. Inwardly she hoped Ellimere had reached the paperwing. She knew if she followed Ellimere, the gore crows would simply chase her, bringing them both down, but if Lirael fought, perhaps, Ellimere would have a chance. She snapped back to reality as an early straggler dead hand smashed into the diamond, burning into ashes, squealing. "Dog…help me..." she whispered to the air, summoning her courage. Dog, no, Kibeth, would have known what to do. She saw the rest of the dead approaching, there was so many, far too many to fight. Summoning what courage she had left, she knew what she had to do. Sabriel was still alive; perhaps there would be another Abhorsen, to take Lirael's place. Some distant relative. Suddenly, as the dead grew closer, she pulled Astarael, the sorrowful out of her safely bound leather pouch. "Help me Kibeth..." she repeated, a little louder, feeling the soapstone statute for the last time with her spare hand. She held Astarael up, and swung her slowly at first, the sweet melody starting soft, almost a small hum, before becoming louder and sweeter, breaking the diamond, reaching every dead, brining them crashing back into death, leaving a pile of grave mould in their place. The sweet tune carried over all the dead. Once the sorrowful tune subsided, the only sound that could be heard was the small clink, as a golden hand hit the ground, and the rolling of the final bell, silent, and sorrowful.

Many leagues away, a woman bent over a small green and red crystal, with a clear and icy center, showing the final battle. She smirked, her eyes flashing with pride. She had led the Abhorsen-in-waiting, to commit suicide, and the Princess, the next to the throne, had been captured, just a minute from her paperwing. Her dry lips broke into a coarse laugh, cracking as the reek of free magic swallowed the breathable air around her. She placed the crystal into her pocket, walking back to a large piece of parchment; her plan was far from complete. Soon, she would be ruling Belisaere, right from the princess's heart. Nothing could stop her now, and it was all that easy.


	2. Sameth, Mogget and Necromancers

Disclaimer: You know the obvious.

Still, yet again, looking for a beloved beta-reader :)

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It was late and Prince Sameth was concentrating in his workshop. He had received a message from the Clayr the previous week, not only was their sight dwindling, but they had saw, what seemed to be prince Sameth using a green, round shaped disk, buzzing with the charter, that was leaving the dead immobile and weak as he held it, assisting the Abhorsen to bind them. But something had struck it out of his hand, and he was left in the dark, trying to locate it. While he was searching – something had struck the Abhorsen-in waiting, behind her back. The clayr's sight instantly stopped. A week since the message was delivered, Sameth was intent on creating such an idea – and improving it, although he had no idea where to begin. Before this, his Aunt's company had given him time away from his ghastly sister Ellimere. She had helped in giving him motivation when nothing appeared to be working. In return, he made Lirael a golden hand, which worked just as good, if not better, then her natural one, before Kibeth bit it off. Lirael had never recovered from Kibeth dying, and he could see it, eating away at her every day, as she stared into the soapstone's statuette's face. But as Sameth noticed, when Nick came to visit, something drew Lirael out of her trance, and became more lifelike, more like the Lirael when he met her. He wondered, perhaps, was its Kibeth's influence after she baptized Nick with the charter? But something drew Sameth out of his thoughts.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on that, _thing?" _Mogget mewed suddenly, looking quite amused. Sameth jumped a mile. He had left his workshop door locked, while Ellimere and Lirael had taken a trip to the Clayr, for Ellimere to find a book or something. Lirael had been reluctant at first, to bring back memories of exploring the depth's of the library, but Ellimere had insisted, believing it would be good for her. How Mogget had got his way inside, he did not dare to ask. A sharp swipe to his arm let him know Mogget was impatient, and still unbound.  
"I asked you a question." Mogget stated, before he started to clean his back, pink tongue darting out into his white fur.

"I was just thinking." Sameth replied slowly, staring at the albino cat.  
"Thinking? Yes, of course, you're the only one who thinks about things. A trait of the Wallmaker, that. Unlike that dog lover…" Mogget replied with a slight twinge of sarcasm, between licks.

"What about Lirael?" Sameth asked tiredly, expecting a rant that involved Mogget's hatred for Kibeth.

"Oh, she's dead that's all." Mogget replied with a cat-like smirk, stretching his back leg out, to clean himself more.  
"WHAT? How? What happened? What about Ellimere?" Sameth stood, worried

"Now you interested, too bad...my thoughts dwindle…perhaps I need some more fish." Mogget replied curtly, knowing exactly how to get what he wants.  
"I'll get you fish, if you tell me what happened to Lirael and Ellimere" Sameth stated, wondering where he would manage to get fish at this time of night. Mogget took his time, before beginning to slowly answer.  
"Well, let's see, Dog Lover, and your sister… who went on the paperwing to the Clayr…but never arrived. And since she's dead, probably in the company of the horrible hound…or whatever she said she was...Ellimere is probably captured, or dead herself. She would have been back otherwise." Mogget mewed matter of factly, the curled up in a ball. Sameth noted that ever since he met Ellimere, he had a slight respect for her. Or perhaps that was because she let him eat all the fish. "If you don't bring me some fish soon, you're going to regret you're not dead too, Sameth." Mogget was quick to point that out and fell asleep, right on top of Sameth's work. With a sigh, Sameth knew this was true. Mogget would do anything for fish.

Ellimere awoke suddenly, painful memories flooding back to her. Lirael had scarified herself, to save her. But she could not reach the paperwing in time. She had seen it, the bright tail slightly showing around the corner. Gore crows had forced them to land, but Lirael had banished them once they were on safe ground. But something, something else had drawn them into the forest. Was it curiosity, of the dark, but mystical forest? Or was it something else, some spell or magic, placed upon them? Ellimere knew better. So did Lirael. As soon as she saw the first sight of the paperwing, she slowed to a fast walk, her lungs aching. That's when they struck, a reek of free magic, which almost suffocated her, causing her to fall, and retch violently on the ground. But with each burning gasp, she fell more and more away, before she finally passed out.

Where she was now, she had no clue. A small tent was pitched, and she lay upon a small lump of straw, in sweaty and dirty clothes. No opening was visible, but the outside light was seeping through the fabric. The green fabric was coated in some sort of grease, slowly, her head spinning. She reached out to touch it. It burnt her hand, and she cried out, the burns blistering, reeking of free magic. Whatever it was, it was for keeping her prisoner. She sat, frowning, and nursing her burnt hand. A moment later, a figure stepped through the barrier, her eyes dark and menacing.  
"So, you're awake. I see." She crackled, the free-magic stench making Ellimere retch, clutching at her dress. "Soon…I'll be ready for you soon. Then you wont need to worry about…that problem of yours" She continued, her rasping voice sounding deeper then any female's should be. Before turning on her heel, she heard whispered slightly, barely audible for Ellimere to hear. "The Clayr will repay, the glacier has already given me their power….they will never understand." She then disappeared with her hissing muttering, leaving Ellimere to finally throw up, before passing out again, just missing the pile of straw.


End file.
